


In Passo Veritas

by Cissylein



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post-Hogwarts, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cissylein/pseuds/Cissylein
Summary: A boring event at the Ministry of Magic, a former student, and a few drinks are everything you need to distract Severus Snape.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 18
Kudos: 196





	In Passo Veritas

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my bff and beta Amortentia <3

Severus Snape hated these kinds of events. He hated the fake friendliness of the Ministry workers and he particularly hated champagne. It was too sweet and, even worse, worked as an aphrodisiac on him - a state which seemed inappropriate at the Ministry of Magic.

The fact that he had been, for quite some time now, observing the perfectly formed arse of a woman did not help. She was -referring to her back- the most attractive woman in the hall and her tight, knee-length skirt which stretched around her butt like a second skin, stimulated his imagination tremendously.

He tried to remember the last time he had got laid. He couldn't and this was reason enough for him to decide that, as soon as he left the event, he would have to visit a certain establishment. At least if he kept staring at this arse.

“Miss Granger,” a man cried from behind.

Great. A former student was the last thing he needed. Especially _this_ student.

“Miss Granger!” The man bumped against Snape's shoulder when he rushed past him, apologised briefly, and moved towards the object of his desire.

Snape's heart sank into his boots.

Please, no.

Bloody hell.

The woman whose bottom he had been ogling for the last few minutes, turned around. It was none other than Hermione Granger: Know-it-all, pain in the neck, and blabbermouth.

When exactly had she become a woman?

Her face had lost its last signs of chubbiness, instead, she had developed curves in all the right places. At the end of the war, she had looked almost haggard and since then he had only seen her on rare occasions.

She smiled as she shook the man’s hand, but it was obvious to Snape that she was enjoying herself barely more than he was. She must have felt his gaze because she turned her head and when she recognised him, her face brightened up. Why Snape could not tell. She excused herself, made her way through the crowd, and was now standing in front of him.

Damn it. She had turned into a beauty.

Or perhaps she had always been, and he hadn't noticed because he had been busy spying and surviving. And because students were off limits.

But now...she was grown up, no student anymore – and he had drunk too much of this damn champagne!

“Professor Snape,” she said and smiled. “How nice to see a familiar face.”

Snape was not used to the fact that someone would be happy to see him. Not students, at least.

Only when they remembered he wasn’t their teacher anymore. And the feeling was mutual.

“Miss Granger,” he replied with the dignity of a man who tried to hide the fact that the person who was talking to him had been the object of his sexual fantasies just moments ago.

“So you really did decide to start a career at the Ministry. How highly predictable.”

“Predictable and boring.” Hermione shrugged. “But I want to make sure that the things that happened a few years ago will never happen again. I will be vigilant and will not hesitate to speak up when I see things that aren’t right .”

“I have no doubt,” said Snape. “If you'll excuse me now.”

“Leaving already?”

“I have been at this horrible event longer than I can stand. Now I need a proper drink.”

“May I join you? I was looking for a reason to steal away. And nobody would dare to stop you from leaving.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You want to...join me? For a drink? Are you sure?”

Hermione laughed. “Anything is better than this. And I'd like to know how you've been.”

Snape's mind was wandering. If anyone had asked him half an hour ago if he fancied going out for a drink with Hermione Granger, he would have declined without thinking. Now the idea seemed tempting. _Too_ tempting, to be precise.

“If you wish”, he said, before he could change his mind. “But you should be aware that I do not drink in Hogsmeade.”

“I'm not in the mood for Butterbeer, Sir.”

“Very well. I'll wait outside.”

*

“Knockturn Alley?” Hermione asked fifteen minutes later.

“I warned you. But it’s not too late to change your mind.”

“No way,” she replied. “I survived a war; I'm not afraid of a pub in a shady area.”

Hermione was looking around, astonished, when they entered _The Screeching Banshee_. It was poorly lit, but cosy. Some customers were her age, and there were couples, whispering into each other's ears or exchanging dreamy glances.

Snape noticed Hermione's surprise and smirked. “What did you expect?” he asked. “Shrunken heads, toads, and Muggles in metal cages hanging from the ceiling?”

“Sort of”, she said, apologetically. “But this is...really nice.”

“Nevertheless, I wouldn't advise you to come here unaccompanied,” Snape said and pointed to a seat at the bar.

“So there _are_ monsters in here?”

“Worse. Men.”

“Well, it's a good job that you are here to look after me then.” She smiled at him and sat down on the bar stool.

What.The fuck.Was happening?

Snape took a seat next to her. “Firewhiskey,” he said to the barkeeper.

“Gin for me, please,” Hermione added.

In the twinkling of an eye, two glasses were levitating towards them. They took their first sip in silence.

“Much better,” Hermione said with pleasure.

“I thought women love champagne.”

She shook her head. “I don't. It makes me...” She was looking for the right words. “Goofy. And too direct?” She looked at him sceptically.

“Why do you ask _me_?”

“If I start rambling, you know it's because of the champagne.”

“Noted.”

The young witch crossed her legs and turned towards him. “So, Professor. How's life at Hogwarts?”

“It's everything I wanted during the war. And now that I have it, I find it unbearable.”

“Oh dear,” Hermione said. “That bad?”

“It's peaceful. Uneventful and boring. And I still don't like the students.”

The Gryffindor laughed heartily. “Does this really surprise you?”

“No.” Snape took a sip of his whiskey. “And do you really believe that you will be happy at the Ministry of Magic?”

Hermione smiled into her glass. “That remains to be seen. But if I can do good, that will be enough for me.”

“Do good,” Snape repeated and made no effort to hide the mockery in his voice. “Don't you think that you have done enough? You should travel the world, break hearts.”

“I did.”

Snape looked at her from the rim of his glass. “Which one?”

“Both. I've been to America visiting Ilvermorny.”

“And?”

“It's impressive. Very modern. But not as beautiful as Hogwarts, of course.”

“And how was America?”

“Big.” She smiled.

“You travelled for quite a while then if you only just started working at the Ministry.”

“Well, it wasn't just for fun. At first, I was in Australia for a while.”

“Australia? Why on earth were you in Australia?”

“I was looking for my parents. And I restored their memories.”

Snape gave her a questioning look.

“When I left to look for the Horcruxes with Harry and Ron, I obliviated my parents. I wanted them to be safe and not to worry about me.” She hesitated. “I didn't know how everything would turn out, that's why I expected the worst. I didn't want them to mourn for me.”

“I had no idea,” Snape said. He realised that he hardly knew anything about this girl. Woman! And about the sacrifices she had made. His thoughts were written on his face, obviously, because Hermione laid a hand on his forearm. “It's okay,” she said, smiling. “They're all right.”

Snape looked down at her hand and Hermione quickly pulled it back. “And what do you do, when you are not bored to death at Hogwarts?” she asked.

“I brew. And I fulfil minor missions for the Ministry. Nothing too dangerous,” he added when he noticed her questioning glance.

“So why have I never seen you at the Ministry?”

“It's not necessary for me to be there. I receive my instructions via owl.” He ordered another whiskey. “Have you ever thought about teaching at Hogwarts?”

“Very often.”

“What is stopping you?”

She rested her chin on one hand. “I don't know. Presumably, I needed some space. I love that castle, but it also houses some very bad memories.” She glanced at him sideways. “And maybe I was so afraid of you that I couldn't bear the thought of being your colleague.”

“Really? You told me that after the war, there was nothing that could frighten you. And now you want me to believe that I am a reason that you don't want to be a Hogwarts professor?”

“You can be absolutely terrifying, Professor, and you know that!”

“If you were my colleague, I would treat you differently.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Are you serious? You hated us and-”

“I did not hate you, I didn't care about you at all.”

“That's worse! You could never admit that I was an excellent student. Why should I think that it would be different if we were colleagues?” Hermione laughed. “Everyone at Hogwarts is afraid of you, even your colleagues. Except for Minerva perhaps, but I guess even she avoids you.”

“My, so many words of praise.”

Hermione grinned and shook her head. “How long are you going to make me call you _Professor_?”

Snape sighed, then he raised his glass. “Severus,” he said.

A warm smile spread across her face. “Hermione,” she responded. “That was easy. Cheers!”

They drank in silence again, but this time they looked into each other's eyes.

“I should go home,” she said finally.

Snape felt something like regret. Who would have guessed this little nag would be such a challenge?

“Where do you live?”

“I have a small flat in London.”

“I will accompany you.”

“Thank you, but I will disapparate.”

“Can you apparate straight into your living room?”

“No.”

“Then I will accompany you.”

*

“Here we are.”

They were standing outside her flat. The door was painted yellow and with a red knob. The colours of Gryffindor? She couldn't be serious.

He looked at her and she returned his gaze nervously - a feeling which hit him, too. All of a sudden, Snape felt very uncomfortable. It was best to say goodbye, sleep, and forget this evening once and for all.

“Good night, then,” he said when Hermione opened her lips to say something. Instead, she nodded. “Good night, Severus.”

*

 _Hermione Jean Granger_ was written on the sign. The very same was sitting behind a desk reading a document.

Severus Snape stared at her as she absent-mindedly twisted a lock of hair with her finger before he decided that it would be rude stare any longer. It would also be rude not to say hello since he was at the Ministry anyway.

“So, this is your office.”

Hermione looked up. “Professor,” she said, surprised. “I mean...Severus. What are you doing here?”

“My secret missions for the ministry.”

“I thought you receive your instructions via owl?”

“Not if the matter is of a more...delicate nature in which case I meet the Aurors in person.” This was a lie, of course. The only time he had visited the Ministry was when he had wanted to meet the Aurors he would have to work with. But Miss Granger did not need to know this.

“I understand,” she said. Then she made a sweeping gesture. “On a scale from one to ten, how boring is it in here?”

“Eight,” Snape said.

“Ouch. I guess I'll just have to do something about that.” She stood up and walked around her desk. “I wanted to apologise. I should have invited you in for a coffee the other night.”

Snape hesitated. He couldn't imagine that a 23-year-old didn't know what it meant to invite someone to their apartment in the middle of the night. But he also couldn't imagine that she knew and pointed it out to him so openly. She didn't appear like a typical seducer. Probably she was just being polite. And insecure.

“It was late,” he said. He could not think of anything better to say.

Hermione nodded. She said that she regretted no longer being able to talk to him because she had an appointment. So he took his leave.

*

Snape glanced grumpily at his whiskey. It had never bothered him to drink alone. In fact, until recently he had preferred it. Probably still would have, if it had not been for this damn Ministry party. And had he not been staring at a particular woman's arse like a horny teenager.

Had he seen Miss Granger under different circumstances, certainly none of this would have happened. He probably wouldn't have taken her to a bar.

Snape took a sip of his whiskey. Dragonshit. Of course he would have. He wasn't a _complete_ misanthrope. And it wasn't Hermione Granger's backside he saw when he thought about her now. It was her eyes. And her open smile.

By Salazar's balls! What had he gotten himself into?!

“Gin, please!”

Snape looked up and directly into a face full of freckles. “Miss Granger!” he said surprised and hoped that his joy wasn't too obvious.

“Hermione!” she corrected, pulled back her hood, and exposed a flood of brown curls. She wore her hair loose, not pulled back like at the ministry. During her school days, he always found that her hair looked like something had exploded. Now he could hardly keep his eyes off her. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I was at the _Leaking Cauldron_ with some colleagues. To get to know them better.” She rolled her eyes.

“They seem to be interesting colleagues.”

“It was all about work. I couldn't stand it for long.”

“And then you thought it would be wise to visit a bar in Knockturn Alley on your own?”

“Well, I was hoping you would be here.”

Snape didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

“To look after me, I mean,” Hermione added. Then she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear.

Snape averted his gaze and clung to his glass of whiskey. Two weeks ago their conversation had developed naturally. Now he didn't know what to say.

“What about your mission? Is it of great importance?” The Gryffindor almost sounded desperate.

“Not really,” Snape replied briefly. Good god, he behaved like a hermit.

“Good,” Hermione said and took a sip of her gin. Then she got up. “I'm sorry, Severus, I shouldn't have come here. I have disturbed you, that was very rude of me.”

“No,” the potions master said and stood up, too. “On the contrary. It was a surprise...but a pleasant one.”

“I'm glad. But I'm leaving anyway. Maybe another time, good night!”

Snape took her cloak before she could. “Do you really think I'll let you leave by yourself?” He lifted her cloak. Hermione hesitated, then she turned around and allowed him to drape the cape around her shoulders. For a brief moment, his fingers touched her arms. Then he cleared his throat. “Let's go.”

*

For the second time, they stood in front of Hermione's flat. For the second time, there was an uncomfortable silence. Again Snape caught himself wishing he could go upstairs with her and again he was filled with melancholy. He didn't even know why.

“Thank you,” Hermione said and stepped nervously from one foot to the other. “If you like...it's really cold...and I make really good coffee. But I understand, if you want to go home.”

“There's nothing wrong with a cup of coffee, I suppose,” Snape said diplomatically. In the middle of the night. In the apartment of a former student. Who was much younger. At least her physical appearance was. Her character was very mature.

When Hermione turned around, Snape closed his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him?!

Hermione Granger's flat was small and full of old wooden furniture. She owned a lot of books – not as much as him, of course – but this didn't surprise him.

“You want a glass of wine while the coffee is brewing?” he heard the cause of his confusion calling out from the kitchen.

He knew that drinking alcohol in this situation was even more unwise than normally, but he agreed.

“I don't have any whiskey, unfortunately,” she said when she handed him the glass. She took an enormous sip herself, then she went back into the kitchen. Snape heard the clattering of dishes.

“You live here alone?” he asked.

“Yes. Harry's living nearby. We wanted to share a flat, but we couldn’t find anything suitable.”

Potter. “How is he?”

He heard Hermione laugh. “You really want to know or are you asking out of courtesy?”

“Courtesy,” Snape replied.

“He's good. Excellent, in fact. Being an Auror makes him happy. And he is very happy with Ginny.”

“And Mr Weasley?” For a moment, the clattering in the kitchen stopped. “He's alright, too, I think. He and Harry are on the road often. We don't talk much these days.”

Snape moved towards the kitchen and put his glass on a table. “Aren't you and him...?”

“Oh, no! Not anymore. We found that we are better as friends. But that's okay!”

Snape felt relief and at the same time cursed himself for it.

“What exactly are you doing there?” he asked, amused. It couldn't take that long to get two cups out of the cupboard.

“I was just cleaning up a little,” Hermione answered, “it was a bit messy.”

The flat was immaculate.

“You are nervous,” he noted. However, he didn't feel particularly calm himself.

“Nervous?” Hermione reached for her glass of wine and joined him in the living room. “Why should I be nervous?”

“Because I’m here.” Snape took a step closer. Hermione did not move away but he noticed that her breath became faster. “Hermione,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Why am I here?”

“I...well...the truth is...I thought it was very nice to see you the other day. It's nice to talk to you. You are...not very easy to handle, as you very well know, but you're interesting. I don't see my friends much these days and the people at the Ministry are...boring. That's why I thought...well...because you also...”

“You are rambling,” Snape interrupted her. “You remind me of the reasons why I found you unbearably annoying back then.”

“I wanted to say that I think we could become good friends,” Hermione said sharply, “but now I'm not sure anymore.”

Snape moved even closer towards her. He tried to play it cool, but it took all of his efforts.

“Do you invite all your good friends to your apartment for coffee, in the middle of the night?”

The glass of wine slipped from Hermione's hand. Neither of them cared.

“No,” she said, suddenly trembling. “I don't know why I did it.”

Snape leaned towards her, their lips were only inches apart. “I think you do,” he murmured.

He kissed her softly, wanted to give her the chance to pull back, in case she realized that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. But she kissed him back. And when she leaned against him, sighing, Snape let go of his reservations. He placed one hand at the back of her neck, the other one on her bottom - which, by the way, felt as good as it looked.

Hermione sighed again when their tongues met. She pressed herself against him more urgently; she had to feel how hard he was. Damn it, he was so hard, he wondered whether the pleasure would be short lived. He almost regretted not having visited a certain establishment two weeks ago. But since that evening with Hermione, he couldn't bear the thought of it.

He pushed his former student, this pain in the neck, this damned, beautiful Gryffindor towards the sofa. His hand slipped between her legs while she quickly undid his pants. There was no time for extensive undressing, they only got rid of the clothes that prevented him from being inside her. When he was finally inside her, she rewarded him with such a wonderful moan that Snape had to stop so as not to come right away. No, he would not screw this up.

He moved slowly inside her, let his hands wander, stroked her breasts, her face, and kissed her.

She grabbed his arse, and when he felt her arousal grow, he moved faster. Her moan was probably the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

“Severus,” she gasped into his ear, over and over again, like a mantra, and then she came, trembling, and he followed her and he thanked the ministry for that damn party with the terrible champagne.

Breathing heavily, they looked at each other. Snape lay on top of her, because even if he had wanted to roll off her, he would have fallen off the sofa and that would have ruined the moment. So he stayed on top of her and inside her and ran his hand through those wonderful thick curls.

Some time later he slowly straightened up and they sat next to each other, looking dishevelled. Snape zipped up his trousers, Hermione pushed her skirt down and buttoned up her blouse.

"I would very much like a coffee now," Snape finally said dryly as if nothing had happened.

Hermione looked at him with big eyes for a moment, then she started laughing so hard that she tipped sideways onto the sofa.

The corners of Snape's mouth lifted, too. He wondered which sound was better: her moan or her laugh. He would have to hear both more often to make a final judgement.


End file.
